Bergentrückung (A Fate Accepted The Fated Path)
by The Exile
Summary: Six brave souls volunteer to become ritual sacrifices to appease the Goat King Under The Mountain.


Pitch darkness and echoes surrounded us.

We weren't allowed any light, only the soft luminescence of delicate lotuses on the water and the blue flames of unnatural magic that poured out from under her eyepatch. The fish lady's armour clanked as she walked. She glared at us with that demonic eye of hers, hissed at us and once she prodded Yellow with a spear when he tripped on a rock and fell over. She especially glared at Purple when she looked at the eye, then she pretended it didn't exist even more. Purple told me she could see straight through the eyepatch though. We all decided we didn't like the fish lady, she scared us, but it didn't prepare us for what we saw when she led us past the big chapel and into the Goat King's lair.

* * *

The King Under The Mountain was everything we had heard him to be. An enormous horned beast, covered in shaggy fur, with blazing eyes and a massive bloodstained trident. He was as majestic as any King of the Overworld, though, in his black cloak over armour that looked more than ceremonial, his bearing proud as he raised himself to his full height, his eyes wise and sad under his crown.

He had been watering a bed of flowers that he had allowed to grow around and even up the arms of his throne. They had overtaken most of the room, those golden blooms, and Purple wouldn't go near them, instead hiding behind me. There was just something sinister about them, she told me, the same as the fish lady's eye. She didn't really feel anything malevolent about the King, though, even when he hefted his trident and strode across the hall towards us, dismissing the fish lady with a wave of his arm.

"Thank you, Undyne. Your success has been noted and we are very grateful," he told her, his voice a deep, rumbling bass. She wordlessly nodded and marched out, leaving us alone with him.

He regarded us with a glance, then commented, "They sent children."

"Y... Your Highness," Purple stammered, "It has to be children, because... because only our souls are pure enough. And we were chosen – no, we all volunteered - because we have unusually strong souls. Enough power for..."

"For the sacrifice," he boomed, his words echoing through the vast, lonely state room, "Sit. Take tea with me."

* * *

We could not refuse. None of us could look away. The lump in my throat grew and I felt tears welling up, both from terror and from something else. Maybe I could feel the sorrow in his heart that showed through his eyes, or maybe the crushing weight of his presence was exhausting me. There was a presence about him that commanded total surrender without him having to utter a word. It was something primal, deep inside our consciousnesses. The contract had already been made with the land itself. A land in which we were trespassers, unwelcome, and had ventured too deep into the heart of to ever return. Our inevitable surrender would almost certainly mean our death. ('If you ever see the face of the King Under the Mountain,' I remembered Purple explaining, 'You're already dead, and the world you leave behind is gone, but it's no use - he always gets his sacrifice.') I had already decided I would do this a long time ago - it had been a great honour for me and my family - but right now I could only think that I wanted my parents. I don't know why this place made me think of my mother and father so much.

I held Purple's hand. feeling her shivering behind me. She had been brave for speaking up. She had to, though, because she was the one who knew everything. I was supposed to be the brave one, the leader, but I didn't feel brave. Did it even matter who was the leader of a group of sheep in a wolf's den?

The tea set was large, with flower patterns. Its design was strangely homely. We had expected there to be more gold and silver, or maybe elaborately carved bone china. This was more practical, like it was used a lot, except there was nobody there. A King's court should have lots of seats for courtiers and petitioners but there were none. We sat down on the flower bed or on tree stumps. Purple still refused to go near the flowers.

The tea also tasted of flowers.

* * *

The Goat King sat back down on his vine-covered throne. He apologised for the lack of furniture, and that he had forgotten how to be a good host, because nobody came here any more.

"I had a son your age," he told Blue, the youngest of us, who sat statue-still, his gaze completely transfixed by the regal beast, "I will tell you a secret. He was not afraid of human children. He played with the human who fell down here as though they were any other child. At least, I believed he fell. I now think he was banished. For something he probably did do."

"We were not sent down here," I reaffirmed, "We chose to come."

"Yes, your souls are as strong as you claim," he sighed, "I did not wish to use children. When they promised me sacrifices, I assumed they would send priests or warriors."

"I am a scholar," said Purple, "And Blue is a dancer. Green is a chef. Light Blue is a healer, Orange is a performer and Yellow is a gambler. We can fight a little but that's not what we're for. Creative souls are stronger than destructive souls."

"Those are your names?" the King looked puzzled.

"They're our ceremonial names. Our roles. My full name is 'Purple Soul'."

"You should have been given names," he frowned, "Children should have the chance to develop personalities, not chained down to roles like 'Orange Soul' or 'King'," then he repeated, "They should not let children come down here."

"Are you going to eat us?" asked Light Blue, her voice shaking. She clutched the faded ribbon her mother gave her.

"Eat you? You probably taste revolting, child. Did your parents not tell you never to eat another predator?" he sighed, "No, they haven't. They've told you all sorts of nonsense about being eaten. The procedure for soul transfer is a very, very complex ritual. I don't understand it fully myself. The science and magic were perfected by the geniuses in my laboratory."

"Will we die, though?" replied Light Blue.

"It will count as death, effectively, yes. I can't pretend it won't hurt. I'll make it as quick as possible, though. The soul will survive, too. In fact, that's kind of the point. We don't fully destroy souls here – in fact, we can't. Or do you really think you could have defeated us without that advantage?"

I looked up at the King. I knew something of battle – I fought with my fists against the other boys and I tended to win matches these days, even against much larger and older boys - and I could not imagine a more formidable warrior than the figure before me. His battle aura blinded me when I tried to scan it. From Purple's reaction, I guessed he was just as powerful a magician. The Town Guard would have no chance against him, nor even the Palace Guard.

"Is it true you're going to use our souls to power a portal to our world, and then kill us all?" asked Green, "I overheard the fish lady say it."

"Undyne is being overenthusiastic, and I will have to rein her in," he said, "I am too soft on her. There will probably be war when I emerge to the surface. I plan to conquer the human world, to make a home for my own people by force. I imagine there will be no choice. It's how history works. I didn't give that madwoman free rein to hunt humans down like they were vermin, though."

"I... I wish there could be peace," said Green, tears coming to her eyes.

"Honestly? So do I. But I do not imagine that people who let children offer themselves up as ritual sacrifices to appease terrible beasts, will agree to share the world with their worst enemy just because he is old and tired. Besides, I still have not enacted justice for my son," he said, "That's what you humans do as well, if someone murders your sons, yes? You execute them. And I have as much right to attempt my conquest as any human nation has to go to war with another, especially when they have been driven out of the light with treachery and bloodshed and evil magic."

I tried to disagree with him, knew that his logic would only lead to more of the war he claimed to hate, but I couldn't bring myself to contradict him.

"There's evil magic in here, too," said Purple.

"So you feel it too. Truly a wasted talent. I think... we went too far, at some point," he frowned, "But I still believe I was right. When the lives of your family are at stake, you risk everything. My sons.."

"Sons?" asked Blue, "You said you only had one."

The King stood up abruptly, pouring the dregs of the tea into the lawn. Purple tracked the movement, frowning. You feed flowers to the flowers?, I thought. But then I remembered that it was perfectly normal for plants to choke the life out of each other and then absorb the rotting mulch into themselves and then carry on spreading until there's no space left for anything else, even themselves. I shuddered and tried to back away to the corner of the room, closer to Purple, without the King noticing.

"We had best not keep the ceremony waiting. I have the feeling that bad things might happen soon," he announced, "I hope that we can miss them."

I heard bellowed commands. A mechanical voice frantically agreed, then suddenly there was music, reverberating through the chamber and the halls outside and probably the entire mountain.

* * *

Blue immediately started humming along to the music, his voice clear and bright. It was a simple tune, but all the more powerful for it, radiating the significance of some ancient, dark rite, its rolling cadence rising and falling like an endless cycle of nature. Its tones soothed me like a lullaby, promising me sleep, an end to pain, that I could soon give myself over to something much larger than myself that I should be proud to be a part of. It was a dangerous call, I realised, because I would no longer care if I ever woke up from that sleep or not. Still, it didn't feel malicious. I knew Purple's moods well and she was shivering from the strength of the magic, not from fear of its evil (although she still glanced suspiciously over at the flowers).

The King swept across the room in such natural, graceful synchronisation with the music that if it wasn't his soul's theme tune, it was close to it, or maybe part of it.

I followed him, glad to be away from the flowers. I tried to pretend that I was meeting my fate with valour but I think I broke down and cried a few times and it was Purple that held me, softly speaking to me until I regained the will to carry on walking. Blue's music raised my mood again. We had never been all that much individually, I realised, only children, but we could endure anything if we were together, as we had always been as the Souls of the Temple. And now we would be together in our mutual fate, all in our rightful places in the Universe...

As he promised, it wasn't painless but it was quick. I saw tears in his eyes as he brought the trident down. Then darkness and no pain...

* * *

"A Red Soul is coming," whispered a twisted, hideous voice, "A Soul whose hands will be awash with blood that will run in rivers through these cursed halls. Yours too, and mine. But if by some miracle they've still forgotten who they are, they will walk straight into my trap, and will become one with us. Then I shall become as a God, and you a part of that God. Is that not delicious? Then the true slaughter can begin! The slaughter and devouring! You shall never be hungry again!"

In response, Blue hissed and hurled knives at the vines entrapping her. I threw a punch hard enough to shatter the thick glass of the box where our captor's face lived. It was to no avail, as always. Our world, our reality, was theirs to control and shape. Our attacks were forced wide, the horrifying image shimmering and moving out of the way. It made us more furious. Enraged at such a sacred ritual being desecrated, our ritual, between the King and ourselves at the second most private time in our lives after being born, disrupting the sacred peace of those who deserved to be left to rest from now on. Maddened at the ruler of this hallowed sanctuary for such wild and fragile souls being assassinated in such a cowardly manner. Howling with rage at the sheer pain we were always in, the chaos that grated against our minds, the insidious thoughts forced into our minds as they leaked from our tormentor's very essence, their soul merged with our own, a maelstrom of violent nihilism.

We resisted it only because there were many of us. Because we also shifted and blurred, swapping each other in and out as soon as we realised one of us was exhausted to the point of breaking. We didn't lose ourselves only because it was never the same self for more than five seconds. It was a desperate fight, one that we would be crushed if we faced head on, so we retreated further and further, using skirmish tactics.

We knew that we couldn't last forever, and that our only hope, the only soul strong enough to rescue us, was dead. We were now at the complete mercy of a madman, doomed to a fate worse than any annihilation of self – to be turned into something as evil as our captor.

It was different once the Red Soul came, but before that, we had another visitor, one even more powerful than both the King and his usurper.

* * *

When we asked their name, they smiled a terrible smile, as innocent as any child but somehow even less sane than our captor, and then told us we could name them what we liked, as their name had already been taken.

"The Red Soul is coming," they told us quite calmly, "Are you sure you're ready?"

We lashed out at them. We lashed out at most people, these days. Nothing good existed in our world any more.

"Oh, I should save your strength," they told us, enduring our blows without bothering to move. They looked completely unaffected, "You'll have your chance to get revenge. But then the Red-Souled One will turn on you, too. Not out of malice, you understand. They just kill people. It's what they're for. An instrument of destruction for a God who sees us as inconsequential playthings. This God thinks we don't even know they exist, but I've seen them. I was cast out for blasphemy on that day, but they have no idea what true divine wrath is. Would you not like to kill a God with me? It will be much more fun than playing with this spoiled child. Oh, did I offend you, dear brother?" the stranger laughed, "You're throwing me out too? Very well. Fighting is tiresome. Remember my words, because if you don't, you'll be exterminated by someone who doesn't even believe you really exist."

The stranger laughed again and vanished. Our captor didn't seem as sure of themselves after that. We were given a rest.

Then the Red Soul really did come.

* * *

The Red Soul was a child, like ourselves. I wasn't sure exactly what I expected. Their soul was as powerful as all of ours combined, and infinitely enduring. Their nature was somehow masked, ambiguous, except that they were so innocent of spirit that they could have killed every single life form under the mountain and it would barely leave a stain.

They were an exact mirror image of the stranger we had met the other day, maybe the same person, reflected in on themselves. We couldn't tell. We couldn't know who they were or what they would do. Only that our fate, never our own, was now in their hands. We could help them, but it might turn out to be the worst mistake we ever made.

Whatever happens tonight, it has broken our fate and it can reforge it. We will not forget who we are or what we have done, though. We were led down into the darkness. We have met the King Under the Mountain. We have looked upon his face and we have spoken with him of the world's secrets. We will never leave this place and the world outside might already be gone but we have our own role to fulfil.

The Red Soul is coming this way.

We do not remember when we last had bodies but my first instinct is still to hold on to Purple's hand and pray to a God we might end up having to slay.


End file.
